


Hypothetically...

by MiddleKeyFangirl



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Awkward Tension, F/F, Happy Ending, Humor, Light Angst, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29794863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiddleKeyFangirl/pseuds/MiddleKeyFangirl
Summary: The media have labeled Kate and America as the most prominent lesbian-hero couple. There's just one problem. They're not a couple.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Kate Bishop, David Alleyne/Tommy Shepherd, Kate Bishop & America Chavez, Kate Bishop/America Chavez, Teddy Altman/Billy Kaplan
Kudos: 17





	Hypothetically...

"Kate! Kate!"

An obnoxiously loud and blonde woman runs up to Kate, microphone in hand with a camera man struggling to keep up behind her. Kate turns and looks at the woman, whose teeth are painfully bright. She's with the media, Kate thinks, and she's not sure why.

"Hi," Kate greets, smiling. Her lip is cut, and it hurts. "What's this for?"

" _The Daily Bugle_."

"We've never been interviewed," Kate says. "This was practically a lunch run, I'm not really sure this is news material. No offense, but you guys must be desperate."

"We're trying to write an article about you and your team. Specifically you and America Chavez?" The woman holds the microphone far too close to Kate's face. At least the camera man keeps his distance.

Kate squints and holds her hand up to block the sun. She's got enough things contributing to her massive headache right now.

"Okay. Well what do you want to know?"

"What is America like? We've tried to get a word with her but she takes off before we get the chance."

"Oh," Kate blinks. "Well I mean, she's great. She's like my second half. I feel like it's become our team, like it's not just me leading anymore."

The woman nods. Kate waits for her to say something, but the woman keeps nodding, urging her to continue.

"I love her," Kate continues. "She's saved my ass- oh sorry am I allowed to-"

"It's fine, keep going."

"Okay," Kate smiles awkwardly. For the daughter of such a prominent figure, this should have been easier for her. "She's saved my life at least a half dozen times. I owe her a lot."

"What is she like outside the field?" The woman asks.

"She's great," Kate says, raising an eyebrow.

"How so? What do you like most about her?"

Kate laughs uncomfortably. "I'm sorry- what? Is this about us as heroes or-"

"We want a glimpse into your personal lives," the woman says.

"Huh."

"So what is America Chavez like, behind the scenes?"

Kate inhales, but it's not refreshing. The woman is wearing way too much perfume, and the weather is entirely too humid. "She's great, like I said. She's my best one, y'know?"

"What do you mean by that?"

She sees Billy waving her over, and thanks God for the diversion.

"She's great," she says again. "But I really have to get going. Team needs me." She starts to walk forward, but the woman almost knocks her over, stepping into her path.

"One last quote?"

"I don't know what I'd do without her," she sighs, gently prodding the woman away. "Probably crash and burn. She keeps me together. I really have to go."

Kate breaks through and jogs over to the team, minus America standing on the curb. She hears the woman call out again, but ignores her.

"We need to get out of here," she says immediately upon getting to the team. "Where's America?"

"Not sure," Billy answers. "She said she'd see us at your place later tonight. Said you owe her for saving your life again."

"Oh great," Kate says sarcastically. "I'd love to throw a party with a raging concussion."

"You're not concussed," David says, and she looks at him, questioning the audacity he emits. 

"Pardon?"

"I saw you hit your head. You're not concussed. Symptoms aren't right either."

"Thanks," Kate sighs. "I need a nap then. And a shower. Can one of you take me home?"

"Sure," Billy says. Which means Teddy's coming too.

"Cool."

Kate drops the bag of takeout on the counter. Tommy's there before she can even start to unpack it.

"Okay then," she blinks. "Bone apple teeth, then."

"What?" America looks at Kate, face expressionless, save for a raised eyebrow.

"Bone apple teeth," she says. "Y'know... like bon appétit?"

America just stares at her as she grabs what's hers from the bag. She keeps her eyes on her as she walks away. Kate returns the sentiment, until America finally looks away. It was a short exchange. Maybe five seconds. But it felt agonizingly long, Kate thinks.

The team is gathered in Kate's living room, practically sitting on top of each other with the lack of room. Billy and Teddy don't mind. David looks bothered, but he's sitting next to Tommy, and that seems to lessen his discomfort. Kate swears she sees him relax at one point, his spine no longer rigid. Tommy looks alright from there, fine with David so close to him. It was a stark contrast between the other side. He and Noh-Varr are sitting on either side of America, trying to keep some space between them, like she would bite if they bumped shoulders.

Kate's lying on the floor. It's too hot. The floor's too warm. She'd been lying down for thirty seconds when the floor was no longer refreshingly cool. Now, she's pretty sure when she stands up she's going to have to peel her calves off the floor. She's certain that's what will happen with her arms. Every time she moves her hand, she can feel the floor trying to keep her down.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Tommy asks, pointing to Kate's food. She peels her neck of the floor. Gross.

"Help yourself."

She might as well get up at this point, she figures. So she pulls away from the floor, and immediately regrets lying there in the first place.

She goes to the sink to get water, when she hears a faint "oh my God."

She turns around, to see America, who had also gotten up to get water. Behind her, Billy was looking at his phone, his face an unreadable mix of amusement, snark and shock.

"What?" Kate asks. America leans against the counter, looking annoyed. She crosses her arms and raises a brow in a way that's so... America.

"There's an article about you," Billy says. Kate scoffs and turns back to the sink, turning on the faucet.

"Yeah I know," she snorts.

"You know they think you and America are a thing?" 

"A thing?" She looks over her shoulder. "What did she say?"

"She quoted you," he says. "'I love her. She's my second half. I don't know what I'd do without her.'"

Kate glances at America, whose face is blank. She's already staring at Kate, and it makes her nervous.

"That's edited," she laughs uncomfortably. She sticks her hand under the water. Maybe it's her, but she's wondering why the water hasn't gotten any colder. "That's not what I said."

"Oh?" America asks, and Kate can hear the smirk. "And what did you say?"

Kate huffs.

"I said you're my best co-captain or whatever..."

"Or whatever?"

Kate glares at her, grabbing a glass from the counter.

"This lady's calling you two the most prominent lesbian hero couple of the year," Billy says.

Tommy laughs entirely too loud.

Kate's staring at the glass in her hand, waiting for it to fill.

"We're not."

"Why not?" Tommy asks. She peers back at him.

"How many times am I going to have to explain I'm straight?"

"Until you start to believe it," Tommy says, and it's a clever response. Kate's annoyed, but she's also mildly impressed.

Kate scoffs again, looking back at her glass.

"Maybe you should try it. Or play pretend. For the media's sake," Tommy continues.

"I'm not gay."

"You sure about that?" She feels two arms wrap around her waist, and a chin pressing into her shoulder. Her breath hitches in her throat and she drops the glass, not realizing she's sliced her hand open when it breaks.

The team laughs, save for Kate. America doesn't laugh either, but Kate can just feel her smirking.

"That's low," she says, but she makes no effort to move. She swallows hard and glances at America out of the corner of her eye. "You're gonna team up with them? To tease me?"

"Hey," she blinks, lets go of Kate. She takes a few steps back. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It was just a joke."

Kate looks at her. The whole team can see how red her face is. It's not helping her case.

"N-no it's fine," she stutters. "You just scared me."

"You're bleeding," America says bluntly. Kate looks down at her hand, and almost smiles. It's her escape route, she figures.

"Oh shit."

America turns the faucet off and grabs the dish towel from the counter. She presses it into Kate's palm, and Kate sees her escape route getting thinner.

She wants to pull her hand away, go take care of it herself. But she looks at America's face, and America's looking intently at her palm, and she figures there's no harm in it. It's not like she was hurting her. Her palm burned from the cut, and the back of her hand burned where America was holding it, but none of that was on America.

Kate looks at her for a second more, looks back at the team. They turn to look away, pretending they weren't watching. How kind of them.

"I can take care of it," she decides, pulling her hand gently away from America. But America holds on, and looks at Kate, raising an eyebrow. Kate stops pulling.

"You'll get blood everywhere," she reasons. It's her turn to pull as she tugs Kate towards the bathroom.

It's probably only ten feet or so away, but with the guys watching her, it feels much longer. She kind of wishes they weren't there, but it's not like she could ask them to leave now.

"We'll be back in like five minutes," she says, providing a thumbs up with her unsliced hand. "Teddy, pick a movie."

"What?" Tommy whines. "Why Teddy?"

"Because he's the only one not getting on my nerves right now," she smirks. David snorts, and Noh-Varr looks confused, as he hasn't said anything. "And he's got the best taste in movies."

"No he doesn't!" Tommy groans loudly, throwing his head back against the sofa dramatically. "Last time he picked he made us watch Indiana Jones."

"And what's wrong with that?" Teddy asks.

Tommy blinks.

"W-well nothing... but it gets old really fast. Especially when you've seen it ten times."

"I'll pick something different, then, just for you," he smirks. "We can watch _The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull_."

"Haven't heard of that one, what's it about?"

"It's one of the Indiana Jones movies," Teddy says flatly. The room goes quiet.

"You motherf-"

"Okay! Let's just pick a movie!" Billy intervenes, trying desperately not to laugh.

"I'm not watching _Tomb Raider_ either," Tommy crosses his arms.

"Okay, then leave," Teddy smiles sweetly. Tommy groans.

"Don't act like I won't," he grumbles.

Kate glances at America, who doesn't look amused. America's been gently tugging her towards the bathroom the whole time, but Kate had planted her feet firmly, seemingly stalling.

" _Us_." America says. Kate looks at her, then back at the group.

"America says _Us_. So that's what we're watching. Any complaints?" Kate looks at the group, who all looked complacent. "Good." 

She finally lets America take her into the bathroom.

The door closes behind them, and Kate's suddenly aware of how small the bathroom is. There's enough room for both of them to stand and move around, but it still feels stifling.

"Where are your bandages?" America asks.

"Under the sink."

America looks down at the cabinet. She opens it with a little too much force, and it whacks Kate in the shins. She yelps, like if she were a chihuahua and America had stepped on her tail. They both look at each other, America confused, Kate wide-eyed and staring.

"Sorry," America shrugs. She stands up and closes the door, again with too much force, slamming it shut. Kate winces.

She winces again as America pulls her hand over the sink and turns the water on. She hisses through bared teeth when the water hits the cut.

"You're so tough," America smirks. "Big baby."

Kate glares, but there's no real anger. America wasn't being mean.

"Last I checked, this was your fault," Kate rolls her eyes.

"I already apologized."

"I'm kidding."

"I know."

"You're a cocky son-of-a-bitch."

"Y'know you're trending?"

"Yup."

Clint sips his cheap beer, half looking at Kate, half looking at his phone.

"You know they think you and America are dating."

"Yup."

"And you're not- being all Kate about it?"

She looks down at him, her neck straining off the arm of the couch. She's not sure how long she's been laying there. In terms of the amount of times Clint tries to get her feet of of him, it's been five attempts. She converts that to a solid thirty minutes. Long enough for her neck to be stiff.

She cranes her neck to the side, eyes set on him. He's only looking at his phone now, like he's scared to look at Kate. He kind of is, if he's being honest. He's pretty sure if he's not careful he'll get a pedicured foot to the nose.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She asks.

"You're not all, 'I don't like girls!'" He says in a mocking, slightly insulting tone.

"I got that out of my system, I guess." She glares at him and rests her head back down, closing her eyes against the ceiling lights. "You already know. The team... has heard me say it. They still raise their eyebrows at me when I say it."

She huffs, sitting up swiftly and turning around, planting her head on Clint's leg instead of her feet. She looks out at the TV, no intent on really watching it. She sighs dramatically.

"What?" Clint asks. 

She shrugs. It's stupid, she realizes.

"What do I do about it?" She mumbles. Clint can't really hear her, but he reads her lips and the context clues Kate was so desperately trying to emit.

"What do you want to do about it?"

She sighs again, turning to look up at him.

"I don't know," she says blankly, "that's why I'm asking you."

Clint shrugs now, taking a sip of his beer and putting it down. He looks at her, and for once, he can't tell what she wants. She isn't being that dramatic, he realizes, she's genuinely confused.

After a few minutes of sad silence, Kate laughs softly.

"Y'know when I first heard about the article America scared the living shit out of me. She just like... held me." Kate feels her face heating up, and she turns to face the TV. "I broke a glass. That's what this is from." She holds up her hand, an ugly red scab across most of her palm.

"She held you?"

"Well... like a hug?" She frowns. "Stand up for a second?"

She rolls off of him and lets him stand.

"Okay... so like..." she looks at Clint, realizing he's much taller than her. "Turn around."

"This is weird, Katie," he says, turning around anyways.

She steps towards him and snakes her arms around his sides, pressing her chin into his shoulder blade.

"Like this," she says. "Like..." She searches for words, struggling. "I don't know... it was nice, I guess."

Her heart beats funny for a second. And then she feels empty, really empty, like she's missing something. It dawns on her that it really is a deeper problem than she'd given it credit for. It dawns on her that she really, really doesn't know what to do. She bites her lip and her eyes start to water.

Clint hears her sniffling and turns around, hugging her. She sobs harder, and he pats her on the back.

"I'm so confused," she cries. 

"I know," he nods.

"What do I do?"

"I don't know."

"Fuck," Kate huffs, slumping against the alley wall. America stands opposite her, leaning back onto the brick.

"You good?"

"I just need a second," Kate says, wiping the blood from her forehead. She hit her head. Again. Not surprising. On top of that, she's remarkably tired from her little crying session at Clint's. Apparently sexuality crises take a lot out of you.

"That looks bad," America notes.

"Obviously," Kate snaps, rolling her eyes.

America stares at her, emotionless. Kate returns the notion, looking into her eyes like they'd tell her what America was thinking. They wouldn't, Kate knew.

Tommy suddenly stops in front of the two of them. Kate doesn't look. She thinks she'll pass out if she does.

"We're all set. It's finished," he says. 

"Oh thank God," Kate sighs, sliding down to sit at the base of the wall.

Today's hell on Earth was a mutant teenager throwing a massive tantrum. She was excessively strong, on top of being able to jump heights up to three stories. Kate was honestly surprised getting her head slammed into the pavement didn't kill her.

"Who's taking her in?" America asks, and Kate points at her lamely, as if to say she were going to ask the same thing.

"Billy and Teddy," Tommy answers.

"To?" Kate asks, and it sends her head spinning when she turns to look at him.

"No idea," Tommy shrugs.

"Whatever," Kate huffs. "Thanks Tommy."

"No problem boss."

He's gone, and it's just the two of them again. Kate looks at America through half-lidded eyes.

"Want me to take you home?" America asks. She's not smug right now, Kate notes, and it feels nice to have America genuinely concerned about her.

"I'd be pissed if you didn't," Kate snorts. She presses her back into the wall and stands up, groaning as every bruise bumps against another and as her head makes rotation after rotation.

"Here," America says, and she's got Kate pulled up onto her back before she has time to object. Not that she would have.

"Thanks."

America doesn't respond.

It stays like that- silent- the whole way back to Kate's apartment, where America drops Kate off and flies off. Kate can't help but feel a little disappointed, alone as she limps to her bed.

She's alone as she takes of her suit, hissing as she pulls it past her bruises. She's alone as she climbs into bed, all t-shirt and wild hair. She's alone when she falls asleep.

She's alone when she wakes up in the middle of the night. She's alone when she sees America's face in her window. 

"How's your head?" America asks, watching Kate eat.

"Well," she starts, "it stopped spinning. But I'm still going to take like five ibuprofen after this."

"That doesn't sound good for you," America says, stealing a home fry off of Kate's plate.

"It's not. It's terrible for your stomach lining. That's why I'm eating first."

America scoffs, smiling ever so slightly.

"I'm glad you're not a doctor," she jokes.

Kate takes another bite and leans back in their little booth.

"I'm not doing anything today," Kate decides. "Nothing."

"Kate?" A voice calls, and Kate swears under her breath. "Kate Bishop?"

"Never mind," Kate says, only so America hears it. America is already amused. Kate wants to wipe that stupid smirk off her face.

"Yes?" She answers, and she realizes she'd be great in retail with her remarkable customer service voice masking her annoyance.

It's a little girl, and Kate stops being sour for a moment.

The girl can't be over ten, but she radiates confidence and bravery. Kate imagines she dreams of being a hero. Not that Kate considers herself a hero, though.

"Oh," she says, in a genuine voice this time. "Hi!"

The girl beams at her.

"You're so cool," she says. She looks over at America, and her smile grows tenfold.

"America!"

America waves at the girl, who is practically vibrating with excitement.

The little girl looks between them, thinking.

"Are you on a date?" She asks innocently.

Kate looks at America, who says or does nothing of help.

Kate looks down at the little girl and smiles.

And then she says perhaps the dumbest thing she's ever said.

"Yes," she nods. America snorts, and Kate kicks her in the shin under the table.

"Wow," the little girl giggles. The little girl's head snaps to a table across the small diner, where two women are sitting. One of them is waving wildly for her to come back, and the other is smiling awkwardly, clearly not sure what to do.

"I have to go," the little girl rolls her eyes. "But you guys are so cool! Have a nice date!"

"Thank you," Kate smiles. The girl nods, smiles back cheerfully, and dashes off to the woman calling her.

Kate takes a sip from her coffee, avoiding the inevitable uncomfortable conversation she set herself up with.

America doesn't say anything, simply sits with her chin in her hands, elbows resting on the table and a smug look plastered on her face.

"A date?" America finally asks, after what feels like five minutes. Kate scoffs and rolls her eyes, trying to play it off.

Kate shrugs.

"Is this a date?"

Kate puts her face in her hands, trying desperately to hide the blush.

"No," she says. "I'm so stupid. I don't know why I said that."

"It was cute," America says, and Kate presses her hands into her face even harder. "There's no harm in it, anyway."

Kate finally looks up, smirking. 

"What if we pretended to date? Like for the media?" Kate offers. America stops smiling for a second.

"Why?"

Kate feels remarkably stupid again. 

"Just for the fun of it," Kate shrugs.

"No other reason?" America asks, and Kate can't look at her.

"No. Never mind it was stupid."

America nods, watching Kate closely.

"If you don't stop staring at me I'm going to have to take six ibuprofen," Kate jokes, and America rolls her eyes.

She only takes three.

"Can I ask you a question?" Kate asks softly, and America turns to her, propping her head up on her elbow. Kate looks tired, she thinks. And in pain. She has fresh bruises forming over yellowed ones on her cheekbone, a sizeable cut on her forehead and another smaller one on her lip. She'd gotten pretty banged up earlier in the day.

Kate sighs, pulling the comforter tighter over herself as much as she can with America lying on top of it.

"Why were you watching me the other night?"

America looks at her, trying to read her face, but the room's too dark, and her eyes are half closed. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I was fine," Kate mumbles, closing her eyes. "It was a little creepy. Stalker-like."

"I'm sorry," America says. "I was just worried about you."

Kate goes to punch her playfully in the shoulder, but with her eyes closed she hits her ribcage instead.

"You were worried about me?" She smirks, laughter laced in her words. "Aw."

"Shut up."

"Don't worry about it," Kate yawns, hooking a finger in the fabric of America's shirt. "I don't mind. I kinda liked it. The idea of you watching me because you were worried."

"You're babbling," America scoffs. "You're so tired. Stop saying shit before you say something you'll regret."

"Oh? Is that a challenge?" Kate laughs, but it's soft, and she hasn't opened her eyes.

"Just go to sleep."

"Mhm," Kate mumbles. "Yeah, whatever, mom."

"I'm gonna suffocate you with a pillow if you don't shut up and get to sleep."

Kate giggles, and it's the last noise she makes before she succumbs to sleep.

She's doing it again, she realizes. Watching Kate. She's looking for the pieces of the story she's missing, but she can't find them.

She sighs, pulling Kate's hand away from her shirt. 

Her hand is soft, America notices in the split second they touch, save for the calluses she's built from shooting.

America slips out of Kate's bed and to the window. She pauses in the frame, looking over the girl. She's not sure what she's looking for. Kate's breathing. Isn't that enough? She rolls her eyes and climbs out onto the fire escape, flying off before she has time to second guess.

"Kate!"

Kate freezes, recognizing the voice quite quickly, considering she'd only met the woman once. She turns around, not bothering to fake a smile.

The woman is feet from her, her camera man panting as he catches up.

"Kate!" The woman smiles, holding out her hand to Kate. Kate takes it, gives it a weak shake and looks at the camera.

"What is this for anyways?" She asks, motioning towards the camera.

"Oh," the woman says, looking briefly at her camera man. "We like to put interviews up on our website."

"You didn't put our last one up," Kate tilts her head.

"It fit more as an article," the woman shrugs. "But maybe we could get a good one, on camera?"

"Well... what do you want to know?" Kate obliges, readjusting herself.

"Is America here? We'd love to have both of you."

Kate looks around. She spots America sulking across the street as she tries to pull alien-God-knows-what out of her hair.

"She seems busy," Kate answers, looking back at the woman. The woman looks over her shoulder.

"America!" She calls, waving wildly. Kate looks at America with wide eyes, both asking her to run, and begging her not to leave her alone with this woman. America looks mildly infuriated, but much to Kate's surprise, she walks towards them.

"America!" The woman says again. "Awesome!"

"What's going on?" She asks.

"We'd like to interview you two, as a couple."

America snorts.

"Well there's your first problem," she says, "we're not a couple."

"Well, whatever you want to call it," the woman laughs.

"We're teammates. Friends, at best."

Kate bites the inside of her lip, slightly bothered by that statement.

"At best?" She can't help but ask, looking at America. America shrugs indignantly. Kate sighs and turns back to the woman. "Clearly we don't get along."

The woman looks bored. Kate stares at her, knowing the woman is waiting for her to continue. The camera man looks incredibly uncomfortable, a physical manifestation of her own discomfort.

"We're going to leave," Kate starts, walking in the opposite direction. America hangs back for a moment, blank-faced, before turning and following Kate.

"Wait!" The woman cries. America's jaw clenches subconsciously.

Kate turns around.

"Why aren't you guys girlfriends?" She asks.

Kate looks taken aback.

"I'm not sure why you-"

"We don't look at each other like that," America intervenes. "I'm not her type, for starters."

The woman looks interested. "And what is her type?"

"Men."

Kate looks between the two of them. America's face is blank, and Kate's nervous because this conversation is becoming a problem pretty fast.

"Well," the woman sighs. She's trying to drag it out, to get as much information as she can. "Would you be her girlfriend? If you could?"

America's jaw clenches, and Kate feels like her soul is leaving her body.

"We have to go," America says sternly. She swiftly picks up Kate and launches over the woman. They can hear her screaming and begging for them to come back.

"She's terrible at her job," America huffs. Kate looks back at the fading scene.

"Does the paper even have a gossip section?"

America shrugs. "All news is gossip, if you think about it."

"Huh."

Kate watches the city fly by, obscured by America's windswept hair. She has questions too, she realizes, but she's not like the news woman. She's not bold. Not bold enough.

They don't speak for three days.

Kate hates the silence, but she refuses to reach out first. She assumed something would come up and they'd have to interact, but for once New York was not in a state of chaos.

America doesn't seem to care, Kate thinks, lying awake in bed on the third night. She can't fall asleep. Her mind is in hyperdrive. She knows even if she does fall asleep, it won't be for long. She'll wake up and start contemplating all over again. It was a cycle at this point; contemplate for an hour, sleep for forty-five minutes, wake up, repeat.

She looks at her apartment window, hoping to see America there. Obviously, the fire escape is empty. Kate sighs, wrapping a blanket around herself as she snuck out of the window.

It's cold. It's summer, but the night air mixed with the wet metal below her feet chilled her to the bone. She pulls the blanket tighter around herself and sits down, knees tucked to her chest trying to keep warm.

It feels like the right place to be, she thinks. Physically it feels like shit and she wants to go back inside, but something about it felt... right. She doesn't really know what it is.

It's when America flies by that she realizes that America was what drew her outside. She couldn't possibly have known she'd be around. She just hoped to see her.

They lock eyes in the dark, illuminated by the countless street lights and shining signs. Kate smiles tiredly at the girl, who changes her route to Kate's window.

"What are you doing out here?" America asks, feet hitting the fire escape.

"I could ask you the same thing."

America nods. "Just looking around I guess. I don't really have anywhere to be." She sits down next to Kate against the brick wall.

Kate looks at her.

"If you ever need somewhere to go, just come here."

America snorts.

"I'm not homeless. I have an apartment."

Kate tilts her head. "On this Earth?" America nods.

"Only on this Earth. For right now at least."

Kate looks back to the street, resting her chin on her knees. She's not really sure what to say. She still has questions rambling around inside her head, she's just not sure how to ask them. Effectively, at least.

"Why?" She asks instead. It's a broad question. She could take it to mean whatever she wanted.

America shrugs. "I guess I'm just more connected to this Earth."

It's quiet again, and Kate leans back, sighing. Most of her hand hits cool metal. Her pinky finger hits warm skin. She almost freezes, almost apologizes and moves away, but she doesn't. America doesn't really seem to notice anyway.

"Can I ask you something?" She mutters, what feels like an eternity later.

"Yeah."

Kate closes her eyes and exhales, suddenly much more tired than she was before.

"The other day," she starts, interrupted by a yawn, "when we were talking with that newswoman. She asked you a question."

"She asked more than one question-"

Kate shushes her, shaking her head. America smirks. Kate can't see it, but she can definitely feel it. Her smirk almost emits an aura.

"She asked if we would be girlfriends if I liked girls." America nods. "What would you have answered?"

"Hypothetically?"

"Yes."

"No." Kate's heart breaks. "I don't want that woman on our backs.

"Honestly?" She asks quietly.

"What?"

"Honestly," she says again, leaning back against the wall. She looks at America, wishing she could read her thoughts so she didn't have to say this shit out loud. "Honestly, no newswoman involved. Would we, do you think?"

America blinks dumbly at her, but she's not stupid. She knows where Kate's going with this. She wants to smirk, say something snarky, like "you're finally coming to your senses". But Kate looks genuinely uneasy. She's not even trying to hide it anymore. Her lip is sucked in where she's biting it nervously.

She looks over Kate.

"What do you want me to say to that?"

Kate rests her forehead on America's shoulder. She can't look her in the eye anymore.

She doesn't answer the question. America can hear her sniffling. She's crying, she realizes. She has no idea how she's feeling and she has no idea how to explain it.

America reaches a hand around Kate's shoulder, stroking her hair as she kisses the top of her head.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Kate mutters.

"I know."

They sit in silence for a bit, America waiting for Kate to calm down. Once she's gotten a few stable breaths in, America sighs.

"Honestly," she starts, "I think we'd make great girlfriends."

Kate exhales, and it sounds and feels like she's been holding her breath for ages, though she'd really been breathing the whole time.

"I'm sorry," Kate says. She's not crying anymore, America notices, when she pulls her head from her shoulder.

"For what?"

Kate shrugs. "For being stupid."

America smirks, and Kate almost hears her before she even says it.

"You can't help that."

They both laugh, soft, small laughs.

America turns to look at Kate, who turns to look at America. Their heads are both rested against the brick wall; Kate's in exhaustion and America's in concern.

"You're not stupid."

Kate nods. She's looking at America's lips, considering. America notices, looking Kate in the eyes as if to tell her it was okay.

She lets Kate come to her. Lets Kate make the decision herself.

She's not certain when she kisses America for the first time, but she looks over America's face, and she feels okay. Still uncertain, but she knew America would wait for her.

"You really are my best one, you know that right?" She smiles. America rolls her eyes.

"Obviously."


End file.
